Broken Bonds
by Linay
Summary: He is the lord, and she is his prize. After the wish's devastating effects, Sesshoumaru decides to exact his revenge upon Kagome. But neither is prepared for the dangerous consequences, nor the passion it ignites. Twisted canon universe, continuation
1. Plaything

**Title: ** Plaything  
**Author:** Linay**  
Theme: **Make Believe – Oneshot #54  
**Genre:** Dark, Romance**  
Rating: **Mature**  
Warnings: **Violence, mild sexual innuendo and awkward moments between our unwilling heroes  
**Word Count: **1707**  
Summary:** [Canon universe, continuation]. They meet again – but not as allies or equals. This is the first installment in a new serial I am planning to write.**  
Disclaimer: **I do not own Rumiko Takahashi's characters.

**Author's Notes: **The chapters in this story have largely been written in response to the prompts given at the livejournal community, dokuga contest (see the link in my profile). I am ever so grateful to the moderators of the community for the challenges and inspiration they have provided.

**Current Theme/Prompt: **Make Believe (Oneshot #54)

* * *

It was her posture that gave her away.

Interest piqued, Sesshoumaru straightened imperceptibly in his seat and lifted his chin from where it had been resting in the cup of his palm. In the long line of captured humans awaiting their turn at a gruesome fate, she alone stood still; the calm in the midst of a maelstrom of blood and guts and gore.

And there was gore aplenty. The air was thick with the coppery tang of blood; the ground slick with the spilt remains of human sludge. One by one, the humans who had foolishly thought to overthrow their demon overlords were dragged into the blood drenched ring for punishment. Some fell to their knees sobbing and pleading; others railed and threw defiant curses. But, one after the other, they all met a similar fate. The demon lords seated around the ring screamed bids for the right to punish each human in turn. Some demons bid for the humans who had personally offended them while others simply chose those who looked like a good kill.

With a piteous shriek, the human man currently at the centre of the ring fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Absently, Sesshoumaru noted the twisted smirk of his executioner, a prominent dog demon known as Shigeo. The demon tore hungrily into the man, preferring to rip his prey open with his bare claws rather than with a weapon. Having amassed a small fortune as a ruthless mercenary, Shigeo had bought quite a few of the prisoners for his enjoyment, slaking his bloodlust with snarls of delight. As the man become nothing more than a mangled mess of blood and bone, Shigeo howled to the ecstatic crowd. Then, with a ravenous growl, he moved to pull forward the next victim. The trembling line shrunk back – all except for the woman, whom Shigeo grabbed roughly by the arm and flung to the centre of the ring.

As a matter of choice, Sesshoumaru occupied one of the higher seats, where the human splatter would not reach the silk of his kimono and where he would not be assaulted by those jostling to partake in the blood fest. Now as he leaned forward, he wished to be closer – if only to make it easier for his nose to sift out her scent from the others.

As she stumbled into the arena, her feet slipped on the slick entrails of her condemned predecessors – but she did not fall. Rather, once she reached the middle, she straightened, drawing herself up with grace and dignity unexpected in such an arena.

Sesshoumaru's lips curled into a smirk. _Yes_, he thought, _oh yes_.

The bidding momentarily lapsed. They did not know her – and why should they? He was certain she hadn't had anything to do with the failed human uprising, especially given her past choice in friends. She had probably just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She seemed to excel at that.

He, along with all the other demons, watched with ever increasing fascination as the woman lifted her chin and levelled her jeering audience with a fearless gaze, her lips a firm line. They all recognized her for what she was: a rare challenge. All of a sudden, the bidding war exploded in a cacophony of shouting. At the centre, she waited in grim silence as her demon captors argued for the privilege of making her scream.

Then, the Lord of the West stood wordlessly, letting his demonic aura unfurl about him. The verbal rioting around him instantly stilled as he staked his claim.

"That woman's life is _mine_."

He did not raise his voice, but the rich baritone carried to ever corner of the arena. The sea of demons parted before him, opening a direct aisle to the bloodied ring below. But Sesshoumaru did not descend the steps as expected; instead, he slowly settled back into his seat.

"Bring her here," Sesshoumaru ordered curtly, ignoring the slight whispers at his obvious breach in protocol.

None dared oppose him, however, and Shiego hurried to comply with the Lord's wishes. The woman struggled to maintain the illusion of walking of her own accord as she was hauled roughly up the steps. Shiego thrust her toward his Lord, and she shrugged off his clawed hand with foolhardy defiance. Shoulders square and gaze unwavering, she met Sesshoumaru's calculating amber eyes.

Shiego's chest rumbled with an indignant growl. "Bow, insolent wench," he snarled.

When the woman stubbornly refused to move, Shiego made as if to slash at her legs – but paused when Sesshomaru lifted a hand. With a flick of his wrist, his sentinel stepped back. His eyes returned to the woman before him, who had to look up to meet his stare even when he was seated.

"I know you, woman."

Her lips tightened slightly, but she resolutely returned his question with silence.

"For how long do you plan to prolong this pathetic game of make believe?" He asked, lightly drumming his finger tips against the arm rest.

Anger sparked then in the depths of her eyes, and she boldly tilted her chin upward. Outraged gasps rippled around them at the blatant display of disrespect. But Sesshoumaru _smiled_, his lip curling to reveal a wicked canine incisor. He rose to his feet in one fluid movement.

"Come," he announced, "We return to the Western Citadel."

"But my Lord!" A smaller dog demon shuffled to the fore. "We are not here to buy humans," He protested, "We are here to make examples of this rebellious scum!"

Sesshoumaru glanced down at his retainer. He arched an imperious brow, at which the other demon staggered backward.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," he backpedaled with an anxious stutter, "I mean only to say that you ought not to waste your time by bringing this worthless human back to the dungeons for torture."

Sesshoumaru's golden pupils flicked back to the woman, who still stood as an immovable statue in their midst. He stepped forward to take the woman's chin between his thumb and forefinger. The crowd held their breath in expectation, hoping to catch a glimpse of the effects of the infamous poison claw.

"Torture?" Sesshoumaru hummed thoughtfully, running the pad of his thumb over her thin lips. "Perhaps. But the dungeon, _no_." He felt the pulse at her neck quicken, and he leaned in with a predatory grin. "This one will be of entertainment in _other_ ways."

The woman wrested her chin free of his grip, her expressionless mask cracking with the widening of her stunned eyes.

Shigeo sputtered, equally shocked. "Surely you would not defile yourself with this -"

"This what? Human?" Sesshoumaru snorted. "Your blindness is tiresome."

Raising his elegant hand, he beckoned to the servants. "Bring this woman to the human slaves. Have them wash and clothe her, and return her to me at the end of our proceedings." He instructed, his deep voice severe, "But take care not to damage her." He turned to catch the woman's eye. "And put her in the clothes of a courtesan."

Fury rose to her cheeks, but before she could express her outrage, she was escorted from their presence by two burly guards. She twisted and bucked in their grip, but they merely lifted her from the ground and carried her off. Sesshoumaru sank into his seat comfortably, his eyes returning to the ring before them. The others hesitated; then took that as their cue to proceed with the display of executions. Within moments, the great arena was filled with the smell of fresh blood and the screams of the dying. Sesshoumaru surveyed the carnage with mild interest, his face betraying none of the impatience he felt. By the time the last human fell to the floor, choking and gurgling on his own blood, Sesshoumaru had begun to tap an impatient claw against his knee.

"My Lord!" It was Hyouta, the bumbling retainer he'd allowed to come along. "The human is ready."

He turned his head fractionally to watch her entrance. The human slaves had dressed her in an elaborate silk kimono which hung so low that the creamy expanse of her shoulders was bared. She walked with as much pride as she could muster with a sword point at her back and the snapping jaws of demons at her heels – a woman dressed as a whore but walking with the gait of a soldier. But it was not the sight of her milk-white skin nor was it the luxurious cascade of glossy black tresses that made him tense; no, he hardened with hunger at her _scent_. Clear now that she had been scrubbed clean of the dirt and dried blood, the tantalizing smell of unmatched but untapped spiritual power wafted temptingly toward them all.

"You recognize the scent now, do you not?" He addressed his peers but focused his gaze on the woman, "_This _scent."

He stood and ran his fingers through her dark hair, then placed a hand on her bare shoulder, the deadly points of his claws resting lightly on the nape of her neck.

"Not a human," he stated with a pleased rumble, "But the immortal prison of the Jewel of Four Souls. Isn't that right, Kagome?" He enunciated each syllable of her name with mocking precision.

She glared daggers at him. "Is that a question, Sesshoumaru?" She asked tightly, her temper simmering just below the surface of her rigid facial muscles. "Or should I say, _onii-san_?"

He chuckled at that, and it was a dark, menacing sound. His grip on her neck tightened, and the pinpricks on her skin became painful. Kagome gasped as he dipped in low and slowly licked the column of her throat, relishing the tingle of her power against his tongue. Her blood, he knew, would be sweeter than wine; his revenge, sweeter still.

"I will enjoy this." A dark promise.

Kagome resisted the urge to attempt to wriggle away from him. "I doubt it," she countered, steeling her eyes against his.

Sesshoumaru straightened and after tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of Kagome's neck, began to stride away with her in tow.

"This Sesshoumaru will enjoy this new plaything."

He bared his fangs in a demonic smile.

"This pet priestess."


	2. Sweet Poison

**Title: ** Sweet Poison

**Author:** Linay

**Theme: **Fourish– Oneshot #55

**Genre:** Dark, Romance, Angst

**Rating: **Mature

**Warnings: **Violence, sexual innuendo and awkward moments between our unwilling heroes

**Word Count: **2647

**Summary:** He did not want to save her. No, Sesshoumaru has much darker designs for Kagome.

He is the lord, and she is his prize. After the wish's devastating effects, Sesshoumaru decides to exact his revenge upon Kagome. But neither is prepared for the dangerous consequences, nor the passion it ignites. [twisted canon universe, continuation]

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Rumiko Takahashi's characters.

**Author's Notes: **The chapters in this story have largely been written in response to the prompts given at the livejournal community, dokuga contest (see the link in my profile). I am ever so grateful to the moderators of the community for the challenges and inspiration they have provided.

**Current Theme/Prompt: **Flourish (Oneshot #55)

* * *

**2. ****Sweet Poison**

Kagome followed Sesshoumaru into his temporary quarters at the compound, her eyes fixed on the silver swish of his long hair. Once out of sight, he had released her hair and simply walked on through the winding corridors. Though he had not said a word – not even deigned to look down at her – it was clear that he expected her to follow.

She assumed they had reached his quarters when he stopped abruptly, snapping open a sliding door with a sharp flick of his wrist. He stepped through the doors with an elegant swish of silk. With a shrug, Kagome followed.

Sesshoumaru stood in the centre of the spacious apartment – but still, he did not turn. Kagome stared at his back; the reigning Lord of the West was as tall and regal and _stiff _as ever. She sighed.

"Sesshoumaru," she ventured quietly, "Thank you…for saving me."

"Saving you?"

Kagome flinched. His icy tones dripped with menace.

"Well," she began, a nervous tremor creeping into her voice, "You did."

He spun around then, and how he managed to saturate his rigid expression with such malevolence absolutely _terrified_ her. She stepped back instinctively. It was the wrong thing to do as he, in turn, stalked slowly toward her with a sneer.

"A foolish presumption," he said, stopping his advance when he towered over her, "Or did you forget your trespass against this Sesshoumaru?"

Sesshoumaru rested the razor-sharp claw of his index finger on her breastbone, and Kagome closed her eyes, her lips tightening.

"No," she began haltingly, "No, I haven't forgotten, but -"

"Good."

The word was a mere hiss of breath, and then Sesshoumaru savagely ripped through the front of her kimono, shredding it to pieces in one quick swipe. Kagome gasped as the cool air hit her naked flesh. But before she could even move to cover herself, Sesshoumaru had her throat in a crushing grip. He lifted her slightly off the floor, leaving her toes to vainly search for support.

"This Sesshoumaru is glad that despite the many years, you have not forgotten," he said with a calm that belied his rage, "It will make your punishment all the more _satisfying_."

"Sesshoumaru," Kagome wheezed, her fingers ineffectually pulling at his, "I didn't mean for things to turn out -"

"Silence," he barked, dropping her suddenly.

Kagome drew herself together, an arm instinctively crossing her breasts as she lifted pleading eyes to the implacable lord. He silenced her with a look.

"It may not have been your intention," he said, his features blank, "But what transpired was inevitably your doing."

She looked away, swallowing the truth painfully.

"You stole what should have been my right, and mine alone," he continued, immune to the rising smell of the tears that lingered at her eyes, "You and your foolish wish."

Kagome bowed her head and covered her face with one hand. Her eyes stung with burning tears, but she fought their fall, knowing it would only serve to further enrage the demon lord looming over her.

"It wasn't supposed to happen that way," she breathed brokenly, "I was so sure I'd chosen the right wish, so _sure_."

"But you were wrong, and it was a naïve wish – one that only a fool would believe to be sufficient," Sesshoumaru said from above, his voice hard and unforgiving, "How did it feel, watching the repercussions of your folly?"

Kagome could not bear to look up and meet the accusing amber eyes.

"How long did it take you to realize you alone would go on living, housing the Jewel within your flesh? Was it when the slayer and the monk passed on? Or perhaps when_ their_ children withered into old age?"

The hand covering her mouth tightened into a white-knuckled fist. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing that she could block out his voice.

His voice turned mocking. "How does it feel to have that immense power within you but not be able to use it? Does that frustrate you, Miko?" He laughed sharply – then dropped to a crouch to spitefully peer at her crumpled expression. "Oh but that's right," he said scornfully, "You are no longer a miko, are you?" He snorted. "All the Jewel permits you to do is _survive_. You can't purify anything, and you can't heal anyone. You alone flourish while your friends perish from war or disease or human decay, and you can do nothing to aid them – how perfectly _worthless_."

Kagome bit down on her lip to keep herself from collapsing into tears. Sesshoumaru inhaled the slight scent of blood from the ruby pearl that appeared on her cracked bottom lip. He grabbed a hold of her arms and gave her one sharp shake. Kagome's head snapped up, her eyes meeting his. She immediately quailed under his intense scrutiny. His answering grin did nothing to assuage her fears.

"You do know what you are still good for, don't you?"

She shook her head, and he drew her closer, inhaling deeply.

"Are you sure?"

He drew her closer still, and Kagome's heart started to hammer against her ribs. _He couldn't know,_ she thought to herself desperately, _there was no way he could have found out. _

Swiftly, before she could react, Sesshoumaru drew her face to his. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, tugging slightly as he relished the taste of her blood on his tongue. Pulling back slightly, he sighed with a slight shiver of pleasure.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was tiny and frightened.

Sesshoumaru levelled her with a hard stare that was filled with spite…and desire.

"No," she whispered, "Please Sesshoumaru, you don't want this."

He arched a brow at her. "And why wouldn't I take what pleases me?"

"Because it's not right," she insisted, edging away from him.

"Not right?" He repeated slowly, one hand winding around her waist and the other climbing up the back of her neck. "You took something from me. Isn't it only _right_ that I take from you?"

He pulled her forcefully into his chest, heedless of her useless struggling. The caress at her neck turned fierce as he tangled his claws in her hair and tugged her head back, exposing her long neck. He dipped his head to the juncture between her shoulder and neck and planted an open-mouthed kiss on her collarbone, teasing and suckling at her flesh with his lips and tongue. The power lurking just beneath her skin tingled and tantalized, and he groaned with animalistic hunger.

"No," Kagome protested, pushing her hands against his armoured chest and vainly trying to call upon her dormant purification powers, "You can't do this Sesshoumaru – no! You can't!"

"But of course I can," he said mildly, his lips moving over her skin.

And then he sunk his fangs into her flesh. Blood welled up in the puncture marks and he greedily laved at the wound with his tongue.

He felt a primal desire fill his body as never before, and he pulled the woman's trembling body in closer. He was so enthralled by the absolute pleasure that he almost missed the sound of his door sliding open. Almost.

His golden eyes flicked up to see Shigeo poised at the entrance. Sesshoumaru growled low in his throat as Shigeo sniffed the air. The expression on the young guard's face melted from one of disgust at seeing his lord embracing a naked _human_ female to one of lustful craving.

"My lord," he appealed in a throaty groan, "May I?" He lifted a foot to enter the room.

"Take one step," Sesshoumaru said, lifting his fangs from his prize's flesh, "And your life is forfeit."

Reason seemed to have fled the other dog, his face filled with hungry longing. "Just a taste," he pleaded, "Only a taste."

"Fool," Sesshoumaru barked sharply, unleashing a wave of demonic energy, "Do you think I bought her to _share_?"

The force of the demon lord's _youki _seemed to shock Shigeo back to his senses. He shuddered, touching a trembling claw to his temple.

"My apologies, Lord Sesshoumaru," Shigeo said, stepping back, "I don't know what came over me." He straightened. "I came to inform you that your carriage is ready, my lord." He offered a quick bow and slid the door shut.

Sesshoumaru sniffed and resumed his actions, opting to gently suckle at the open wound. He ignored the woman's quiet weeping as he savoured the tang of her power-infused blood. It tasted _good_, and it was only because of centuries of self-discipline that he refrained from pinning her to the floor and doing _more_ to her body.

And then, suddenly, the taste turned sour. Sesshoumaru frowned, but was unprepared for the sudden onslaught of images of blood, bone and ash that crashed into his mind. He shoved the former priestess away from him and jumped back, swiping at his mouth with the back of a hand. She crumpled to the floor, one hand covering the fresh wound on her neck.

"What was that?" He demanded.

"How could you?" She mumbled angrily, not looking up. She clutched at her neck, fighting to still her heaving breaths. "How _dare_ you?"

Sesshoumaru lifted his chin and watched as Kagome drew herself up. She pulled her hand away from his bite and stood, heedless of her nakedness. She pointed an accusing finger in his direction, her grey eyes ablaze and her spine straight.

"Do you know what you have _done_?" Her voice was shrill with fury.

He responded with a nonchalant shrug. "I did what it pleased me to do," he said loftily.

"Fool," she fumed, seemingly oblivious to his darkening expression, "My blood…you drank _my _blood."

"You are the fool," Sesshoumaru sneered, "All demons know that a priestess' blood grants pleasure and power."

She laughed, high-pitched and wild. "But I'm not a priestess; you've said so yourself. And while my blood may give you _pleasure_," she slurred the word sardonically, "You will regret drinking it – I promise you."

"Hn," he snorted, narrowing his eyes, "I have never regretted anything – except perhaps not killing you in my father's tomb."

"Well, you missed your chance then," she said snidely, "Because you can't kill me now."

He was at her side in the blink of an eye. "It would be unwise to underestimate this Sesshoumaru," he said in growl, his claws gripping her upper arm, "Just because I will not give you a quick death, does not mean that I will not kill you."

Her answer was between a sob and a laugh. "You don't understand." She smeared some of the blood from her shoulder with shaking fingers. "It's too late. I _cannot_ be killed."

Sesshoumaru's eyes were drawn to her broken skin. As he watched, her flesh knit itself back together; not even a scar remained.

"So you can heal yourself," he scoffed, "It was but a small wound."

She sighed with a dry chuckle. "If only," she said, "But by all means, if it _pleases_ you to try to kill me, go right ahead." She snorted. "You should have just left me to those demon executioners."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "And deny myself the pleasure of making you writhe in pain for what you did?"

A shadow crossed her face. "Inuyasha would never have -"

He shook her sharply. "You dare to speak his name?" he hissed.

She huffed, unafraid, and Sesshoumaru's eyes followed the path of her hand. Her fingers absently traced a symbol below her breast that he had not noticed before. Curious, he pulled her hand away from her body to inspect this new revelation. A series of mysterious characters ringed her chest. The lines of the strange symbols were white and raised, and looked very much like the healed brands on his human slaves. Kagome gasped as Sesshoumaru lifted her breast with a knuckle to gain a better view of the seals. But when she tried to pull away, he hooked an arm around her waist and proceeded to run his fingers over the line of characters.

"Don't, Sesshoumaru," she breathed as his hand brushed the underside of her breasts.

"Hn." He continued stroking the bizarre pattern, indifferent to her discomfort. "What is this?"

He felt a sudden heat surge into his finger tips. Then, Kagome arched backward against his arm, her eyes wide and unseeing. Quirking a brow, Sesshoumaru pressed his fingers more fully against the characters on her skin and watched as she began to twist in pain. Her skin brightened incandescently, and her mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. He would have been pleased had the touch not turned electrifyingly painful against his own skin. He pulled his hand away, and she slumped, boneless, in his arms.

A knock at his door. "My lord?"

"Enter, Hyouta," Sesshoumaru barked as he lifted the woman into his arms and turned toward the futon.

"My lord," Hyouta announced as he padded into the room, "Shall I bring the woman to the slave caravan?"

"No," Sesshoumaru said shortly, "She will ride with me."

Hyouta reined in his surprise. He watched, confused, as Sesshoumaru pulled a sheet from the futon. Steadying the female with one arm, he wrapped her in the white sheet. She moaned as he picked her up again.

"Shall I take her?"

Sesshoumaru turned and glared.

"Very well, my lord."

Kagome roused from her pain-induced state. She grimaced. "That hurt," she muttered incoherently, "Why'd you have to do that?" She hissed through her teeth. "Ouch."

She tried to twist out of his arms, but Sesshoumaru tightened his grip.

"Be still, wench."

"Don't call me wench," she replied automatically, "I always hated it when Inuya-" She stilled suddenly, and then wilted in his hold.

Hyouta looked from his lord to the woman hanging limp in his arms. Her face was ashen; her shoulder painted in blood.

"My lord," he suggested, "Perhaps it would be better to end her life here and be done with it."

"Her crime against this Sesshoumaru does not merit such a quick end," the demon lord replied silkily, "She has not even yet begun to understand the depth of my displeasure."

"As pompous as ever, Sesshoumaru." The woman laughed weakly. "And anyway, you know I can't be killed."

Hyouta's brows shot past his hairline. Did the foolish child have no instinct for self-preservation? He had seen the Lord of the West disembowel others for lesser insults. But then, to his shock, the great dog demon only chuckled. Then, he leaned in to press his nose to the woman's dark hair.

"By the time I have satisfied myself with you," he whispered sweetly into the shell of her ear, "You will _wish_ I could kill you."

Hyouta sighed, his shoulders sagging wearily. He hadn't seen his lord so excited to shed blood in decades. "May I presume to ask what crime she committed to warrant such, ah…_attentive_ punishment?"

The woman's face took on a pained expression, and she closed her eyes tightly. Sesshoumaru straightened. When he spoke, his voice was clear, rich and filed with loathing.

"This woman is responsible for my brother's death."

Hyouta turned the piece of information over in his mind. "Forgive me," he said slowly, "But didn't your brother die almost a century ago?"

"He did." It was a short answer, clipped and without explanation.

"And this human child…?" Hyouta prodded gently.

"As I've said," Sesshoumaru clarified impassively, "She is neither a human nor a child." He craned his neck to lick at her bloodied shoulder. "She is the vessel protecting the Jewel of Four Souls, and her blood flows with its power."

The girl began to titter brokenly, and it was an anguished, unhappy sound. Both demons looked on as her laughs became quiet, choking sobs.

"You are a fool, Sesshoumaru. My blood is not power," she said softly through her tears, "My blood is poison."


End file.
